S'mores and Some More
by strawberrycupcake101
Summary: Arthur had a pretty nasty day but nothing a Frenchman and some S'mores can't fix!  human names used


Alright so this was for my FrUK loving companion Meg~ SHe is an amazing Brit and I love her death and this story is all for her guys! I hope you enjoy~ BTW ima taking requests :D just messsage me if you have one.

* * *

Arthur stared coldly into the fire in front of him.

"Remind me what the bloody hell I'm doing out here again?" he asked harshly, not at all amused at the fact he was outside in freezing temperatures, sitting around a goddamn fire.

His companion only glanced at him before retrieving something from his bag.

"This _Mon Cher_." replied Francis, holding up a bag of what looked like marshmallows. Arthur glared at the Frenchman.

"I'm out here for marshmallows?" he stated, his temper rising causing his cheeks to flush. Francis chuckled. He was so cute when he got angry.

"Ahh but these as well~" he chuckled, pointing to what looked like a pack of chocolate and graham crackers. Arthur switched his glare from on the chuckling Frenchman to the assorted foods on the ground. He really wasn't in the mood for any games, considering today hadn't been a very nice day. Francis stopped chuckling to pick up and open the bag of marshmallows before handing one to his companion. "For you _Mon Angleterre_~"

"I told you not to call me that, frog. " Arthur took the marshmallow from the other and just stared at it, turning it this way and that as if admiring its curves and surface. "So just what are we doing again?" he asked not taking his eyes of his marshmallow.

Ignoring the others earlier comment, he quickly picked up a stick which he offered to the other with a smile. "We're making s'mores of course."

"Why?"

"To cheer you up." Francis replied matter-of-factly, "Since you obviously had a bad day."

Arthur blushed slightly, turning away from the other. "You don't need to do this you know. I was fine by myself." He then pulled his jacket a little closer to him, trying to keep out the cold. Who knew it could be this cold in September? It had to be bellow 50 at least. The brit frowned.

"Don't lie to yourself, Angleterre. It's not very gentleman like to do so." France smirked, picking himself up to move closer to the other on the random log they had found to use as a seat. He then took the others marshmallow and poked it onto the stick. "Here, you can roast it on your won I presume?"

Arthur snatched the stick away with a huff. He then proceeded to stare at it for a while, twirling the stick nonchalantly in his hands. Francis gave him with a peculiar look. "Something wrong _Mon Cher_?"

The brit quickly looked away, his face heating up quickly. "Well, I-, It's just-" Arthur was stumbling with his words, not knowing whether to tell the damn frog or not. He sighed. "It's just…."

"_Oui?_"

"What's a s'more?" he asked innocently, not facing the other. His blush continued to fall upon his cheeks, half from the cold half from embarrassment.

The Frenchman stared at the other blinking a few times before the realization hit him. When it did, he began to laugh and the other was not pleased. "Shut up! Damn frog…" Arthur mumbled, staring at the ground with a frown. He did not enjoy being ridiculed, especially by some frog. Francis chuckles slowly died down before he reached out and took the others chin in his palm. He turned the Brit to look at him, green eyes meeting blue. Arthur blushed some more and Francis could've sworn he was turning into one of Spain's tomatoes. "Don't worry, _Mon Angleterre_. That's what I'm here for." The Frenchman assured with a smile, before letting go of the other's face and turning his attention to his own marshmallow. Arthur just glared into the fire.

It was going to be a _long_ night.

* * *

After countless attempts at _not _burning the marshmallow to a crisp (or their clothes for that matter. Francis would have to remind himself to get a new jacket.) and putting together a s'more that didn't fall apart, the two sat there quietly munching on their own respective s'more. The air was so serene, filled with the sound of the leaves rustling in the wind and the crackling of the fire, that Arthur thought he could fall asleep. That is until he was interrupted.

"Arthur, you got a little, uh…" Francis motioned to the corner of his won mouth, trying to inform the other of the chocolate stain on his mouth. Arthur tried to remove it but kept missing it by only a little, which caused the Frenchman to become impatient. "Here let me get it."

Francis scooted closer to the other before lifting the others face up slightly. Arthur didn't think anything of it at the time, since he was too concerned with keeping his smore together. That is until he felt the others tongue slowly swipe at the corner of his mouth, causing him to flinch slightly from shock. Francis retracted his tongue slowly, letting himself taste the chocolate on his tongue. Francis slowly licked his lips, smirking at the other.

The two stared at each other for a few seconds with mouths only centimeters apart, eyes never leaving the other's. Then and only then did Arthur act. The Brit quickly touched his own lips to other's for nearly a fraction of a second, before leaning in to fully capture the other's mouth. Francis, who was caught off guard, stared wide eyed before reacting to the kiss himself. He slowly began to kiss back, his tongue intertwining with the others in an almost dance like motion. He allowed the other to lead, following quite contently as Arthur proved to be quite the kisser. Arthur slowly, and quite skillfully, placed himself nearly on top of the other, pulling closer to the Frenchman. He grasped at the others jacket with such need, Francis himself began to blush. Francis then moved his hands to wrap around the others petite waist, placing his hands at the small of the others back. The two continued there small dance, one leading while the other followed suite, until Arthur leaned a little to close and sent him and Francis falling backwards, hitting the ground with a small _oomph_.

The two broke apart and Arthur placed two hands on both sides of the other's head, pushing himself up slightly. They stared at each other for awhile, both breathing heavily, each breath visible in the chilly air. A smirk slowly made its way upon the Frenchman's face. "Maybe we should make s'mores more often, _non Angleterre_?"

Arthur just frowned at the other before leaning down. "Just shut up and kiss me already, bloody frog." he growled, to which the other complied quite happily.

So maybe today _wasn't_ such a bad day after all.


End file.
